The Final Act
by Scandalacious Intentions
Summary: With three days before the Potters return from a holiday in France, Sirius makes the reckless decision to move out of Grimmauld Place, learning more about himself in an hour than he has learned in the last sixteen years.
1. Act 1

**Disclaimer: It's not mine and neither is Sirius. Go, both of you, be free.**

**A/N: For EmmaLeighx who I will miss dearly. I finally got round to writing it.**

It's been an interesting summer, he thinks. Deep down, he knows it is his last but he isn't sure quite how. The whole house is shocked by his behaviour. He is almost the model son. At least, he would be if his parents were a little more…normal.

He has spent six weeks in Grimmauld Place and so far Sirius Black has done:

Nothing.

No smirks. No smarmy remarks. No pranks. No talking back. Nothing.

That is until his mother's social gathering. He is for once present and wearing acceptable attire. His shoulder length hair is pulled back revealing cheekbones to die for. He almost thinks it's a shame that his hair looks so good at its current length or he could show off his bone structure more often.

"Why are you doing this?" asks Regulus under his breath.

Sirius arches an eyebrow in - he shudders at the thought - a gesture most like his mother's. "Doing what?" he replies, far too politely at a volume that he knows the room will hear.

Regulus chooses not to respond and Sirius manages to rein in his triumphant grin. He has decided that the best way to really unnerve these people is not to respond, not to show emotion and most certainly, not to antagonise.

His brother is highly confused, his mother is far less disapproving (although her House Elf is another matter entirely) and his father is merely frowning and no longer shouting but given his track record, Orion Black is positively chipper.

It is as someone once said, the best way to create truly great tragedy is to give the audience a huge laugh just before. Sirius has granted the Blacks a reprieve.

He spots the Black sisters in the corner, minus the middle child who has a child of her own now and a small part of him is desperate to do it. He bites his lip and coaxes himself into it. Yes, he'll do it. He'll say hello to Bellatrix.

"Bella?"

She looks at him as though he has proposed she marry a diseased rat. "What do you want?"

Sirius manages a gracious smile. "I just wanted to let you know that you were right."

She cannot help the self-satisfied, smug little smile on her flawless face. "Oh really?" she asks somewhat dubiously. "About what?"

Sirius bites the inside of his lip so she can't see it. He's waited long enough. "About my choice of company."

Bellatrix does not look surprised by this. She nods along with him, still smiling smugly. It's not a fetching smile and Sirius can't help but smile back almost losing his cool because she doesn't understand.

"I realise that the people I'm spending my time with aren't worth it. I realise that these people are scum. I realise that they - and one monstrosity in particular - are insufferable, unreasonable, an incredibly bad influence and do nothing for my reputation. I just wanted you to know that you were right. I'll never be a Black." He raises his voice. "I don't fit in. I hate and I mean really hate at least ninety-seven per cent of the people in this room and the other three per cent I don't actually know but I'll hazard a guess, if I may, that we won't be sending one another Christmas cards." He laughs as he catches sight of his mother choking on one of her elaborate canapés. "And I know she can hear me so can I just let the record state that I told that one particular monstrosity that decorative food was a bad idea and yet again, she wasn't prepared to listen."

There is total and absolute silence. It almost deafens him. He watches his mother drop her volauvent and notes the sheer fury in her eyes. He wonders where he's going to stay. He's three days too early. James and his parents are in France. He risks a glance at his terrified brother and finds him shaking. He's horrified that he wants to put an arm around the boy who will never really stop being his baby brother and tell him everything's going to be alright.

He's grabbed around the wrist and he feels his father's hand tighten around him. The pain is like nothing on earth. Breaking his arm and falling thirty feet was nothing compared to this.

"I think you'd better wait in my office."

For the first time in years, Sirius quietly does as he is told. While he waits, he rifles through spare bits of parchment and finding one blank, grabs his father's quill and scrawls:

_Remus._

_Get me the fuck out. Please. Just help me._

_Sirius._

That's it. Remus is his last hope in the world. He ought to feel a sinking at the pit of his stomach but he can't because if there is ever anyone on whom to rely, it is Remus Lupin and he knows that he won't be let down or abandoned.

He laughs with relief and it's just the wrong moment to do so as his father slams the door behind him and takes his seat on the opposite side of his desk. There is total silence for some time while he rearranges his papers and pulls out a crystal decanter filled with an amber liquid that Sirius knows his mother would be furious about if she knew of its existence. And then the strangest thing happens.

"Would you like a drink?"

Sirius is thrown by this. He clears his throat and shakes his head. His father shrugs. "Suit yourself." The awkward silence descends.

"You might as well get it over with," says Sirius. "I've arranged my moving in with the Potters."

His father nods solemnly. "I used to think this was a rebellious phase you would grow out of. I repeatedly told your mother that it was nothing to worry about and you would see sense. I thought it was teenage rebellion."

Sirius nods back. It is the only way in which they seem to be communicating as it is too painfully obvious that neither is about to listen to the other. "It's the green tea that does it. I've been detoxing and finding the real me and-"

Orion cuts him off. "Stop pretending to be a homosexual. It's far too acceptable in these circles for you to use it as a tool to antagonise. You're only making a fool of yourself."

For a moment, Sirius honestly believes that he is on the verge of blushing. He is relieved to have it under control. "Sorry, sir."

His father laughs bitterly. "No, you're not."

"You're right." It occurs to Sirius that it really is only his mother he has an objection to. Certainly, this man's beliefs make him sick to his stomach but he's a little more reasonable than his mother. "Can you see my point of view?" He's almost pleading now, playing for time in case Remus hasn't read his letter.

Orion sighs. "You spend your time with a blood traitor, a boy who's practically a squib and a half-breed. Can't you see mine?"

Sirius' blood boils. "I would love to, sir, but unfortunately, I can't get my head up that far up my own arse. James is the best friend I could ever have. James is everything I could ever have wanted in my family and I won't let you talk about him like that." He's acting braver than he feels, forgetting that his father has the upper hand. "Peter's not a squib. Peter's the best bloody potioner Slughorn's ever taught which actually makes him better than you in the opinion of someone who actually matters so perhaps you ought to think about your choice of adjective." He takes a deep breath and realises that his hands are shaking. "And as for Remus, you're not even fit to say his name. He's a non-negotiable part of my life. I'm leaving now and I trust you won't have any objections."

He's gasping for breath by the time his speech ends and terrified that his father will play his trump card.

"And who's going to pay your school fees?"

Sirius feels sick. "I…I don't know," he stammers. "I don't care."

He slams the door behind him and realises that he still has not received a response from Remus. The owl might not have delivered it yet. The Lupins might not even be in the country.

It's pouring with rain and he is glad that his tears won't show. The fact that he was crying had escaped his notice until he tasted the salt on his lips. It was only to have been expected really and he thinks he ought to have prepared himself for this. Sirius sits on his trunk and waits for a solution to offer itself.

"Sitting in the rain," says a familiar voice. "How cosmopolitan. Tell me, Padfoot, is this another of your many enriching hobbies?"

There is no-one who is better at sarcasm than Remus Lupin and Sirius has never been so euphoric after being insulted before. He runs down the street and flings his arms around his friend. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Awkwardly, Lupin pats his head. "Are you okay seems like a stupid question so…have you packed?"

It is only as he's led along the costal path in a summer storm that Sirius realises he may not be welcome at the Lupins. God knows, they had put up with enough from him. He swallows, desperately trying to soothe the burning at the back of his throat.

"Remus?"

Lupin barely turns. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure I'm allowed to stay? How did you get to London?"

His response is to mumble something about a bus that Sirius himself should have used but he smiles and turns his key in the door.

Sirius is bombarded by the smells of burning wood, roast chicken and the faint trace of Diorissimo and sounds of Mrs. Lupin humming which quickly turns into a string of profanities as the vegetables boil over. She's wearing a blue and white striped apron covered in flour and gravy stains. This, thinks Sirius, is what a home should smell like and above all, this is what a mother should look like.

She's not even perturbed by his presence. "Come and taste this for me, would you, sweetheart?" She spoons a small amount of gravy into his mouth before he has time to even agree to it, before he even has time to dry his hair. "What do you think?"

He nods enthusiastically and swallows. "It's lovely."

She smiles at him in a manner in which his own mother has never done and says in a tone rather reminiscent of Mary Poppins, "Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Remus, get him a change of clothes and find your father for me. Sirius, sweetheart, I'm sorry but you're not dripping over my carpet like that. There's a towel in the porch. That'll have to do."

He grins. It's almost just like having his own mother; a mother who gives a damn and fusses and wears inviting perfume and calls people 'sweetheart' and all those other things mothers are supposed to do.

He turns on his heel and comes face to face with John Lupin who is considerably more alarmed by his sudden appearance in their kitchen. Sirius can't say he blames him. The last time they met, Lupin wanted to drop out of school after the Snape incident. Sirius averts his eyes and blushes. After everything he's done to these people, they remain pleasant and loving and…he can't think anymore.

"Ten tonne polar bear," says John.

Sirius looks up. "I'm sorry?"

"Ten tonne polar bear."

Sirius looks to Lupin, desperate to pick up on the joke. He shakes his head. "Pardon?"

"Well," says John, shrugging. "It broke the ice."

It's a terrible joke; so terrible that it's funny. It's easy to see where Remus gets his ability to make people laugh even with the oldest of jokes. Sirius shakes and before he knows it, he's crying again.

John smiles affectionately. "Good grief. It wasn't that bad - was it?"

With a sudden jolt, Sirius realises that these people are his family. James and his parents, Remus and his parents and even Peter who often infuriates him. That more than makes up for his lack of a biological equivalent.

Sirius wonders if the same person who dictated how to plan his miserable attempt at a tragic departure is the same person who tells people that they can't choose their family. It's a rather philosophical sort of question and it occurs to Sirius that within three minutes of spending time with the Lupins, he's even thinking like them.

Rather suddenly, Mrs. Lupin is handing him a plate of food he can barely see over and asking him a question that he doesn't really know the answer to yet.

"Will you miss home, do you think, Sirius?"

He thinks for a moment and as though sensing his best friend does not want to answer this, Remus replies, "Every day in that house is like the last act of Othello. I wouldn't - would you?"


	2. Act 2

**Disclaimer: See First Chapter**

**A/N: I had to continue with this. I just had to. **

"Come on," says Lupin, clearing the table when it is only the two of them left, "I'll wash. You can dry."

Sirius has neither washed nor dried dishes in his life. He gingerly picks up the neatly folded towel that smells delightfully like the clothes of story-book grandmothers - not that he really knows what they smell like, but it's how he's always imagined they do.

"So," says Lupin, smiling encouragingly and running hot water. "Listen, you won't have to do this every night."

Sirius shakes his head. "No, it's the least I can do."

Lupin laughs. "_I _don't even do it every night, Padfoot. I just offered tonight because I wanted to get you on your own." He turns the tap off and adds a strange, bright green substance called Fairy Liquid, that Sirius has never heard of. "I didn't get chance to ask you about this evening."

Sirius frowns. "Oh…_that_. Um…to be honest, Moony, there's not much to say. I know I shouldn't have done it before James got home. He told me to wait and I should have."

Lupin's soapy hands grasp his wrists and force him to look him in the eyes. "Sirius, you have absolutely no obligation to stay in that bloody awful house with that bitch." Realising what he has said, Lupin turns back to the dishes and begins to vigorously scrub the plate in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to Sirius.

"Remus?" It occurs to Sirius that there's only one thing he can say; one thing he wants to say but knows Lupin will never understand just what it means for him. "Thank you."

Lupin is taken aback. "Oh. Um…no problem. I…I meant it. She's horrible, Padfoot. Just…fuck her. Really. Fuck the bitch. Who cares?"

It's the first time he's heard Lupin swear so violently and he's touched. "I'm not fucking my mother, Remus, no matter how much you want me to."

And Lupin thinks that his friend has recovered. For the first time, Remus Lupin has misjudged the situation completely.

But he does not realise this until the early hours of the next morning when he cannot sleep and flicks through a book, reading by a dim light that seeps out from under his slightly open door, bathing the corridor in an almost ethereal glow. Had the door been closed, he probably would not have heard the deep breaths and occasional sniffling from across the hallway; but the door is open and he can.

Softly, he pads across the landing until he reaches the spare room and what he sees stops his heart. The lights are off but his sharp eyesight can make out Sirius kneeling, his hands clasped together and he hears a frenzied whispering, soft and barely there like branches swaying in summer breeze.

"Please. Please, just give me an answer."

Prayer. The last refuge of a desperate soul. Lupin sighs softly and waits for his friend to rise and shake his head. He allows him a few minutes to himself, to allow for the pretence that he has not been listening, and knocks quietly.

"Yes?"

Lupin closes the door behind him and the room is immediately plunged into darkness. He flicks the light switch and it is almost too bright. "I'm sorry. I was worried about you."

Sirius smiles. "It's all right. We have that in common."

The spare room has been made homely enough by his mother, with a vase of flowers she cut from the garden, crisp, white bed sheets, a bottle of lemonade and a glass, a drawer full of useful things like scissors (just what for?) and tissues (he dreads to think) and notepaper (but Sirius writes as little as possible). She had even encouraged him to unpack as though he were staying for months.

"Why don't you come in with me? My room's a bit…well…dimmer." He is pleased when Sirius laughs. "You could have shared with me but I thought maybe you'd want your own room and…you know…maybe you'd want some privacy."

Sirius nods. "Thanks."

"And," says Lupin with a flourish, "I nicked a bottle of my dad's Firewhiskey so we'll get trashed and talk about whatever's bothering you. Sound good?"

Sirius grins. "This…this is….Remus, I…thanks."

Lupin shrugs it off. "Padfoot, anyone would do it."

"No, they wouldn't, Remus. Really, they wouldn't." It occurs to him how truly lucky he is to have the Lupins in his life - to have a mother figure who adores him and Remus and his father (who are more like brothers themselves) who do everything in their power to make sure he is cared for. They didn't have to take him in - not after the events of last year. In fact, he wouldn't have been surprised if they had lured him there and thrown him off the cliffs. He would have been suspicious had the whole family not been so innately…nice.

So they relocate to a slightly larger room, covered in photographs and scattered with books. The bed sheets are the same and the customary bottle of lemonade stands on the bedside cabinet accompanied by illicit alcohol which Lupin immediately gets stuck into before he even settles himself. He takes a swig and hands the bottle to his friend. He leaps onto his bed and stuffs a pillow between his back and the wall. He pats the space beside him. "You can have the whiskey, by the way."

Sirius takes the offered seat and another swig. He leans back against the provided pillow. He stares out of the window, open mouthed. The Lupins are not the wealthiest people around, but as Sirius looks out of his friend's bedroom window and glimpses midnight blue waves and granite grey cliffs, he is willing to bet that Kings would kill for this view.

"What did you have in Bristol?"

Lupin frowns and mutters, "A forest."

Sirius knows not to press the subject. He looks out to the sea for whole minutes and Lupin looks across, wondering whether he has fallen asleep. "I have buses and shoppers."

"That must be a lot more interesting," says Lupin

Sirius shrugs. "It's all right. Regulus would spy with me when we were younger and we'd try and guess what people had bought and where they were going." He laughs breathily. "Is it terrible to miss it; to miss not knowing what my parents did and believed in?"

Lupin shakes his head and takes the bottle. "Is that why you were trying to talk to God about it?"

Sirius stares at him. "You heard that?"

"Yeah." Somehow, he feels the need to redeem himself and to reassure. "I do it too. I know I have this issue with religion and with God. I know that I keep changing my religion for a laugh but I'm still a Catholic; deep down. I still use my rosary and I still go to confession every now and again. I need my God too. I'm not judging."

Sirius grins. "So no more Zen Buddhism and yoga?"

"Not this week."

"Who's going to pay my school fees?" Sirius blurts out before he can stop himself. "What if they won't let me back?"

Lupin smiles. "Write to Dumbledore."

And Sirius realises that the answer has been there all along; that it took Remus and that brilliant Lupin-logic to find it. Of course, Dumbledore wouldn't let him drop out. He grins at Lupin and falls back beside him on the bed, their heads sharing the third and last pillow.

"Do you think Regulus will say anything?" he whispers.

Lupin shakes his head. "And if he does, me and James will rip him apart and Peter will take photos to pin on my wall."

Sirius grins and flings his arms around Lupin who gasps for air.

"Pad…dy…can't…breathe."

* * *

"I love myself. I want you to love me." The deep baritone fills the room and the corridor. It is a rather rude awakening when one did not sleep until the sun rose.

Lupin cries out in disgust and horror and leaps out of bed. He hammers on the bathroom door and shouts, "Dad, I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop singing about touching yourself in the shower when my friends are over."

John merely laughs and moves on to the second verse, making Sirius' day as Lupin shudders. "So," he says, turning to Sirius, "what do you want to do today?"

Sirius shrugs. "What did you have in mind?"

Lupin smiles sheepishly. "I don't know. That's why I was asking you." His eyes light up. "I'll go and tell my Mum where we'll be."

"And where _will_ we be?"

Lupin smirks and winks.

Sirius is nervous for all of two minutes. After all, this is Remus and he's probably only told him to dress warmly because they're walking along a coastal path and the sea winds are tremendous here where the sun can't reach them as they climb steadily higher along a rocky path. And eventually they reach the summit and Lupin sits right at the edge looking out onto a vast expanse of bright blue sea. They are so high that in the distance, they can see above the clouds and Sirius feels as though he's looking down on the world.

"I always feel like God," Lupin admits. "Isn't it fantastic?"

"Christ, yes."

Sirius would be content to stand here all day and watch the clouds shift but this does not appear to be on Lupin's agenda as he removes his mother's knitted jumper and stashes it in a small crevice just beneath him. He adds to this his Converse trainers, black jeans and all three pairs of socks.

"Remus?"

But Lupin only smiles in response and allows the sun to warm him. His white t-shirt is huge and through it, Sirius can make out the bite mark on his shoulder. Perhaps it is because he is a Londoner - too used to smog and bustling crowds, but he is unnerved by the idea of standing in total silence atop a cliff wearing only a t-shirt and his underwear.

If he is unnerved by this, it is nothing in comparison to the leaping of his rapid heartbeats as Lupin stands at the very edge and dives - actually dives at least eighty feet into the sea.

His heart is in his mouth now and his breathing is ragged. Sirius peers over the edge and breathes a sigh of relief as Lupin emerges, pushing his hair back and shaking it. Sirius can just make out a grin and he hears laughter. He is beckoned down and sighs, stashing his outer layers in the same crevice and dreading the climb back up, dripping wet and gasping. Nevertheless, he stands as he is told and with none of Lupin's practiced grace, hurtles himself at the water.

He can hear whistling and it is only as he realises that this must be the sound of his body, that he becomes alarmed by the sheer velocity involved and he hurriedly tries to backtrack. Of course, this is a ridiculous notion and he soon hits the water. He surfaces, gasping for air.

Who would have thought it? Remus Lupin; a keen practitioner of extreme water sports.

"What do you think?"

Sirius grins back. "Fuck me. That was incredible."

"I thought you might need it. It always makes me feel completely free. That's what I do when I'm angry and it always works. Do me a favour though, don't tell my Mum. I'd never be able to leave the house alone again."

"I wouldn't dream of it. So what's next?"

Lupin winces and wonders just how to break the news. "Well, the hike back up, but after that, lunch."

Sirius beams. He's just getting used to Mrs. Lupin's fussing and extremely large portions. He's not so keen on her cabbage but he supposes these things swing on roundabouts.

Now that he thinks about it, that doesn't sound right at all.


End file.
